


never sleep 'cause we night-owls

by immahill



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Post-Season/Series 02, Vanya Hargreeves-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27343861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immahill/pseuds/immahill
Summary: Vanya can't sleep. Neither can Allison or Klaus, apparently.-or-A snippet of three of the Hargreeves siblings being wholesome.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	never sleep 'cause we night-owls

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Buying Time" by Lucky Daye.

Vanya sighs as she turns around in her bed for the millionth time. She had expected to experience some heartache – she left her temporary family, the one that had taken her in and given her a home, behind in 1963, after all – but that isn’t even the problem here. She’s in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar house (who owns it and how they acquired it is a mystery to her, and it isn’t her priority to find out), with people she technically only _kind of_ knows. For the cherry on top, now she’s got her memories back. All of them. Every. Last. One. Allison’s rumor power be damned.

She isn’t sure if being back at The Academy would be better or worse than living in whoever’s house this is. 

_(A high pitched ring piercing through her ears, Dad shouting “Focus, Number Seven!”, the shattering of glass cups and cracking of his monocle, then pounding on the door of her confinement, crying for someone, anyone)_

Ok, well, maybe this is better than The Academy. Her memories from her childhood home aren’t all bad, but...everything is a little fresh right now.

Mostly, she feels overwhelmed. She almost prefers 1963, even though she had no recollection of her previous life and Carl was breathing down her back, because everything was somewhat simpler back then. Or even when she was stuck in her wimpy apartment with no friends, teaching kids (and a psychopathic grown man who had an obsession with her family) to play violin while unknowingly drugged up on antipsychotics to prevent the powers she wasn’t at all aware of. Those days were so routine and predictable.

Jeez, she’s starting to sound like an old man. Oh well.

It’s just hard to make sense of it, is all. She’s got all these new but simultaneously old memories and thoughts swirling around in her head, and she has no idea what to do or how to interpret them.

A frustrated feeling bubbles up inside her, rising from her stomach to her chest. She can’t deal with these memories and emotions, she can’t fall asleep, but what she _can_ do is cause the end of the entire world. Almost _twice_. Yet, now that they’re back to the present and things aren’t adrenaline inducing and stressful, she can’t do anything remotely in the ballpark of lifting an entire lake into midair without getting winded or straining herself. What a great person she is.

God, nothing about this is fair. She’s always known her life was a little weirder than the average person, but this is a new level of fucked up.

A sharp rattling breaks through the ringing in her ears and rips her out of her thoughts. Her head whips to find the source of the sound. She doesn’t have to look very far since it’s only the cup on her bedside table, hovering very slightly above the wood surface and clattering against it, sloshing the small amount of water inside of the glass. A slow breath is drawn in and then exhaled out, fists forcing themselves to unclench, and the cup lowers back to it’s previous resting place. Across the room, a soft _thwomp_ can be heard.

Vanya pushes herself up onto her elbow and peers through the darkness. Vaguely, she can make out the piled form of... _something_ on the floor. Her eyes trail up to the door behind the blob, one of it’s previously occupied coat hooks now empty. Huh. She must’ve accidentally levitated her jacket, too.

She flops back down onto her back, adjusting and readjusting her blanket, repositioning her limbs, but nothing helps. Her mind wants her to get up and do something, anything, just so it doesn’t have to lay here useless with the thoughts of its own creation.

Well, if anything, she might as well refill her cup. It’s useless to try to get any sleep in her current state of mind anyway. Vanya heaves herself up into a sitting position before pulling the blanket off her and easing her legs over the edge of the bed. After rehanging her jacket on the designated hook, she pads out into the hallway, glass in hand.

She can’t explain the impulse – maybe it’s because she’s living with her siblings again after living alone for so long, maybe she just doesn’t want to wake anyone – but she takes careful consideration to make her steps as quiet and undetectable as possible, slinking around much like she used to creep through the halls of The Academy. She’s already halfway down the stairs when she notices Allison and Klaus already there, sitting on the couches in the living room adjacent to the kitchen and talking in quiet tones. It barely takes her a second to turn around, immediately retreating up the stairs without a second thought. It’s fine, she doesn’t really need her water anyway. It was just a mundane task to get her moving, and now she’s moved, so she can go back to her room and hopefully get to sleep or find something to entertain her there.

“Ah, Vanya!”

Klaus’s voice, an unexpectedly loud noise in the quiet house, makes her freeze in her tracks. Shit, she didn’t even think about if she was allowed to be out and roaming around in this house late at night. Is he mad at her? Everyone residing here is an adult (even if Five doesn’t look like it), but maybe there are rules she doesn’t know about. She wouldn’t enforce rules on anyone if they were staying at her place, but this isn’t her house, after all.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” she apologizes habitually.

“Sorry?” he repeats. Vanya doesn’t know why he looks so confused.

“I was just heading back–”

“No you weren’t, silly.”  
  
“Well, I mean,” she waves her hand to fill the space in the sentence. “I can. You guys are already in here, and I don’t really need anything.”

“Oh, c’mere! Come sit.” He pats the empty couch cushion in between him and Allison.

She blinks. “Um, what?”  
  
Allison chuckles. “You can come hang with us if you want, Vanya.”  
  
“I can?”

“Of course.” The tall woman smiles. “If you’re not too tired.” Vanya thinks there might be a little teasing challenge to that, if the raised eyebrow is anything to go by.

“I’m not tired,” she says quickly, feeling sort of like a younger sibling trying to prove themselves to the older even though they’re all the same age. Kind of. Vanya isn’t sure how any of that works since they were dropped into Texas at different times.

“Then come hither, my child,” Allison coaxes, jokingly putting on some unidentifiable accent that makes her ghost-seeing brother dissolve into giggles.

The shorter sister just huffs amusedly before shuffling over to her siblings, setting her cup down on the coffee table that Klaus is resting his feet on and cautiously perching on the offered space.

“So whatcha doing out of bed late at night?” He pulls his feet off the coffee table and crosses on over the other, setting his elbow on his knee and resting his chin on his fist. “Do tell.”

“Nothing, just couldn’t sleep.”  
  
“Aw, no juicy gossip? Or gory nightmares? Boring.”

“Ignore him,” Allison waves Klaus off and lays a hand on Vanya’s arm.

“No, it’s okay,” Vanya smiles. “It’s good.” She hasn’t had much experience with Klaus (or any of her siblings) since they were eighteen, and up until now, the interactions she _has_ had have been strained under stressing circumstances. (Besides dancing with the very people sitting with her on this couch in the barber shop in Dallas. That was fun.) The easy, lighthearted vibe this exchange is carrying is refreshing. It’s all she’s wanted for so long, the ability to just be with her siblings without the fear of reprimand or judgement, to be allowed to casually hang out without it turning into a whole big ordeal.

“You know,” Allison’s eyes flick between her and Klaus, observing. “I think I know what you mean, Vanya.”

* * *

“Aw, you guys! That was so heartwarming.”  
  
“Is this just what he’s like?”  
  
“As far as I know, yes.”

“You betcha. I’m as sober as Sandra Dee on a Sunday. This is all me, baby.”

“He’s also sleep deprived to the point of referencing _Grease_.”  
  
“That too.”


End file.
